


Three Days

by greenstuff



Category: In Plain Sight
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-22
Updated: 2012-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:25:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenstuff/pseuds/greenstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angst-free follow up for the season two finale. M/M.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Days

It took three days.

Three days in which ABQ PD and the Albuquerque Marshals service chased one dead-end lead after another. Three days in which he did not sleep unless it was in the ICU waiting area, and ate only enough to keep him vertical. Three days that felt like years.

He wasn't there when she awoke. The doctors refused to bend the family-only rule for anyone but Raphael and even if they hadn't, Marshall wasn't certain he had the strength to watch her fiancé dutifully holding her hand while he helped Brandi with the morning crossword.

So it was Raph's face she saw first when he eyelids finally cracked open and Raph's hands that fetched a glass of water when she tried to croak out a sentence and failed.

Marshall didn't even know she was awake until a nurse who was passing through the waiting room on her way for a break recognized him and passed on the happy news. He was too relieved to even feel angry that neither Mary's family nor her fiancé had thought this was news he should have had an hour ago when it first happened.

It was another two days before he was allowed to see her. Raph was taking Jinx and Brandi home for the afternoon so they could have clean clothes and something that wasn't hospital food, Marshall offered to keep watch over his sleeping partner for an hour or two and to call if anything changed.

 

It took three minutes.

Three minutes with his left shoulder jammed against the doorframe, eyes glued to her face, teeth firmly clenched together. Three minutes in which he drank in the sight of her and learned to breathe again without the pain threatening to explode in his chest. Three minutes that ended a nightmare.

"Jesus Marshall, I can't look  _that_  bad!" Mary growled, her voice rough from two and a half days on a ventilator.

Marshall took three steps which carried him to her side. He tried, but he couldn't speak, so he squeezed her hand, smiled and didn't try to hide the tears in his eyes.

When he could speak he kept the conversation light. Filled her in on the status of her witnesses and then dissembled into a detailed history of Albuquerque Presbyterian Hospital. Facts kept his voice from wobbling.

Mary didn't ask about the shooting, so he didn't tell her. There wasn't anything to tell anyways.

After two hours Raph appeared in the doorway and Marshall went home and truly slept for the first time in three days.

 

It took three weeks.

Three weeks of visits stolen between work and her family's near constant presence. Three weeks in which Mary grew strong enough to snarl at the world again. Three weeks that brought her back.

Mary had always hated hospitals. The smell, the food, the noises and the cheesy get-well gifts. Marshall knew, so he brought a deadly-looking cactus which made her laugh, a fully loaded iPod with her favorite songs to drown out the innocuous beeps, and even smuggled in a slice of pie to break up the monotony of green Jello and chicken soup.

On the day he brought pie he heard Mary and Raph arguing before he could actually see her room. He took a seat in the hall, set the precious carton of pie beside him and respectfully pretended not to hear the fight that ended with a sharp, hurt and angry "Goodbye!" followed by the slam of a door.

He gave her five minutes and then went in with the pie because pie made everything better, even broken engagements.

 

It took three years.

Three years of other men and other women. Three years in which they tried to find normal and failed. Three years to see the truth.

Marshall had been in love with Mary so long he'd almost forgotten that's what the feeling was. He never acted on it, and he accepted dates with other women when they showed interest. Marshall was a thinker, he didn't take uncalculated risks. They were partners and it was better than nothing.

But Mary was a risk taker, not a thinker, and one dismal rainy October day she leaned her head against his shoulder and asked in a too-casual way if he remembered the toast he'd given on the long ago day of her engagement party.

He didn't look at her when he answered. Afraid to see what was in her eyes – afraid for her to see what was in his. "I did … do." He said softly to his potted plant.

"Me too." She almost whispered.

 

It took three seconds.

Three seconds from a half-spoken "I love you" until he had her in his arms and could press his lips to hers. Three seconds for years of hurt and confusion to melt into unspeakable joy Three seconds that spoke of forever.

Marshall kissed like a drowning man- all desperation and hunger- while Mary's kiss was more like a forest fire – hot and nearly out of control. Years later a sentimental Marshall would swear there were fireworks. Mary would grin smugly and point out that lack of oxygen makes you see spots before you pass out.

Five minutes later their newest witness arrived and it was hours of paperwork and questions. It was just like the seventy nine other witnesses they had processed together. Mary was bad cop to his good, the brawn to his brains.

When they had deposited the witness into his safe house Marshall took Mary out for dinner. She wore a low cut dress just to see him blush. This time he was allowed to look and couldn't take his eyes off her. Afterwards he kissed her goodnight and each went home alone. Marshall was no one night stand.

 

It took three months.

Three months of steadily burning passion kept on a low simmer. Three months of secret rendezvous and Don't Tell Anyone. Three months to test the waters.

Once again it was Mary who made the first move.

Marshall knew moving fast would send her running, so he did nothing. He watched and waited, a stake out without guns, until she was so fed up she couldn't help but make the first move.

"This is stupid."

He looked up from his paperwork to find her leaning on his desk. "What's stupid?"

"Lying to Stan."

"So go tell him." Marshall gestured across the empty office.

The look she gave him was not nice, it was calculating. "I think," she said slowly, coming around the side of his desk, "I'd rather just," she was so close he could feel the heat of her body through his clothes, "do this."

Before he had a chance to react her lips were on his and all rational thoughts were gone.

When Eleanor and Stan stepped off the elevator three minutes later the inspectors hadn't moved. Stan silently pulled out his worn leather wallet and handed a beaming Eleanor twenty dollars. She kissed him on the cheek and that was that.


End file.
